


Blink Once

by dragonofdispair



Series: Unrelated Prompt Responses [28]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime, Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Gen, Hacking, reprograming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 09:06:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5660695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonofdispair/pseuds/dragonofdispair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlet: Ratchet's going to try this until he gets it right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blink Once

**Author's Note:**

  * For [12drakon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/12drakon/gifts).



> For 12drakons prompt in the writing challenge.

“ _Steve_  isn’t it?”

The eradicon’s visor powered on so fast the influx of visual data produced a dozen error reports. The voice chuckled and the shiver of plating produced more errors. He dismissed the stack and tried to move — not sure where he would move  _too_  just that he had to get  _away_  — which only triggered a repeat error report, this one accompanied by an irritated  _blat!_  from his diagnostic systems. Medical override codes. He couldn’t move.

“It  _is_  Steve, right?” Ratchet’s voice set off true panic in his mind. He couldn’t move and there was  _Ratchet_  — “It’s difficult to tell the lot of you apart. Blink once for yes and twice for no.”

Steve didn’t blink at all. Ratchet was — was…

Ratchet was the Autobots’ Chief “Medical” Officer and that was really all that needed to be said.

Fear paralyzed him. He had no important information — not that it would do him any good to spill what he had. Ratchet didn’t care about information; he only cared about his experiments and victims’ screams.

The torturer gave an irritated huff. “Yes or no, ‘Con. Not  _too_  hard,” he crooned gently.

Wishing he had enough control over his body to at least tremble, he complied. One blink for yes.

The medic smiled brightly. Cheerful. “Good. I’m going to give you your voice back. Do you understand?”

Steve blinked once because yes, he understood. The Autobot wanted to be able to hear his screams.

The medic-torturer reached for a wicked looking tool, edges sharp and still covered in the dried energon of his previous victim, whoever it had been. “Shhh,” Ratchet tried to soothe when Steve’s visor flickered uncontrollably, the only expression of fear he had left. “I’m not going to hurt you. Do you believe me?”

_Say yes!_  he thought. It was what the torturer wanted to hear and it might hold off the pain for another few seconds.

Against his will his visor blinked twice.

Ratchet looked disappointed. “Slag. I thought I had it that time.” He put down the tool and shrugged. “You’re answering honestly at least, which’ll make Jazz happy, but not me.” The wrist-panel that contained his networking equipment clicked open and he began unwinding the cord as Steve’s visor flickered intermittently. “Failure does not make me happy, Steve.” He shrugged again. “But if at first you don’t succeed and all…”

Steve had enough time to think  _what—?_  before the Autobot’s cord clicked into the port behind his head and the medic’s override codes sent him into unconsciousness.

.

.

.

“ _Steve_  isn’t it?”

The eradicon’s visor powered on so fast the influx of visual data produced a dozen error reports…


End file.
